


Waiting

by Toastbusters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Gen, Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastbusters/pseuds/Toastbusters
Summary: Stiles' dad gets into an accident. Features flashbacks and several emotions. No spoilers for anything at all. Might be considered AU.
Relationships: Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 4





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This has only been edited by me, so let me know if there are any big mistakes.  
> 
> 
> I don't own anything related to Teen Wolf or any of it's characters.  
> 
> 
> Line breaks are flashbacks.  
> 
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

The fluorescent lights were buzzing overhead, the noise settling into Stiles' brain like an itch that just can't be scratched. His butt had gone numb hours ago, but he didn’t pay it any mind. The beige walls and white floor tiles made the sounds of rolling wheels, footsteps, and heart monitors echo. On any other day this would bother him, but he had more important things to worry about right then.  


He wiggled the braided silver band up and down his thumb, never fully taking it off. Stiles had been waiting for the doctor to come back for hours now. As he lifted his head, Stiles caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall, likely an attempt to make this dismal place more interesting. He looked horrible. His short brown hair was a complete rat’s nest, his honey eyes were dull and tired, and his skin was blotchy from crying earlier.  


Stiles thought back to that morning when everything was fine and dandy. Oh, how quickly things change.

................

Beep! Beep! Bee-! Stiles' hand slammed down on the off button of the shrieking demon that is the alarm clock.  


“Ugh,” it was Tuesday, he hated Tuesdays. They weren’t the fresh start Mondays were, or the milestone that was Wednesday, and not even close to the holiness that was a Friday. They just were. And that was the worst.  


Stiles finally decided to get out of bed and noticed that it was already 7:15 A.M., He was having a late start on his day. That just made him hate today even more. He rushed through getting dressed, just tossing on some jeans, a plain black t-shirt, with a red and blue flannel, and black Converse. Stiles started to run downstairs, but had to stop to turn around and run back up to get his backpack.  


As he got downstairs, he saw his dad reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee.  


“Morning, Dad.” Stiles gave him a quick hug before going to find his own breakfast.  


“Hey, Kiddo. I have to leave early this morning, so you be sure to leave on time for school.” He looked at Stiles pointedly when he said this. Stiles may or may not have had difficulties with punctuality.  


“I have absolutely no idea to what you are referring.” Just because he knew he was late all the time, and his dad also knew he was late all the time did not mean he had to admit it out loud. Stiles finally found the last box of Frosted Mini Wheats in the highest cupboard, and he eagerly grabbed it, as well as a bowl and a spoon. He was just walking to the fridge to get milk when his dad stood up to leave.  


“I gotta head out, Stiles, but I’ll see you for dinner. Want me to pick up anything special?” He said all this while putting on his uniform jacket.  


“No, I was thinking about making spaghetti tonight.”  


“Alright, come give me hug, and I’ll see you tonight.”  


Stiles gave him a tight squeeze, just like he did every morning. They hugged a lot more ever since mom died.  


“Bye, Dad. Love you.”  


“Love you, too, kiddo.”He gave Stiles another short squeeze before he let him go. He adjusted his belt and went out the door.  


Stiles quickly fixed up his cereal and rushed out the door to try and make it to school before the bell. His old blue jeep did not go very fast, so when he finally made it the school parking lot, class had already started. He got out of his car and began the long walk to the science hall, but was interrupted by Scott calling out to him. Scott McCall was Stiles' best friend since childhood, but they had been drifting recently.  


“Hey, Stiles!” He was jogging in Stiles' direction with a huge grin on his face.  


“Hi, Scotty. What’s up? I was just heading to class.”  


“Well,” he was putting on the adorable begging face. "I thought we could hang out today, instead of class." That explained the face. He was asking me to skip.  


Stiles pretended to think it over for a few minutes in silence, a blank look on his face just to freak him out a little. He already knew what the answer would be.  


“Yeah, sure, man.” With that said, Stiles turned to go put his school supplies back into his jeep.  


They walked out of the parking lot and down the street to Gina’s, the local cafe. They both ordered their drinks and took a seat at a round, wooden table in the corner of the small cafe. The silence was near stifling. Their names were called soon enough, and once Scott and Stiles collected their respective drinks, they sat back down.  


“So, uh, how did you do on that test last week, in Harris'?” This was a very poor attempt to break the silence.  


“Oh. Um, I did fine, I guess. I got a 79.” They looked at each other for a moment and then broke into hushed giggles. That was actually a pretty great grade for Scott, especially in Harris' class.The room was nearly deserted, and they did not need any attention drawn to them when it was obvious they were meant to be at school.  


Suddenly, Stiles' phone rang, interrupting the nice bonding moment they were having. He pulled it out and sighed upon seeing the unknown number on the screen. He decided to be more adult like and answer it, instead of ignoring it out of fear like he usually did.  


“Hello?”  


“Yes, is this...um...Mr. Silinksi?”  


“Oh, yeah that’s me, just Stiles is fine. Who’s this?”  


“This is Beacon Memorial Hospital, and we have a Mr. Noah Stilinski who was admitted a few moments ago. You are listed as his emergency contact and next of kin.”  


“Oh my God. Is he okay? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes!” Stiles hung up on the man on the phone and started to get up out of his seat, when Scott stopped him with a hand on his arm.  


“Hey what’s the rush?”  


“My Dad’s in the hospital, I have to go. Right now.”  


“Oh. Is it super bad?”  


At this Stiles just huffed out a frustrated breath and tore his arm from Scott's grasp.  


“My Dad is in the hospital. I would be rushing down there if it were just a broken toe, so it doesn’t matter if it’s super bad. I’m leaving.”  


Stiles ran back to his jeep and jumped into the seat. He screeched out of the parking lot and down the road to Beacon Memorial Hospital. The guy on the phone didn’t sound too urgent, but Stiles needed to be there for him, regardless. He was all the family Stiles had left. He got to the hospital and quickly found a parking space near the entrance. The security guard at the door startled at his abrupt entrance into the lobby, but Stiles paid him little mind. He stepped up to the check-in desk to ask the whereabouts of his father.  


“Hi, I’m looking for Noah Stilinski. I just got off the phone with someone from here telling me that he had just been admitted.” Stiles was slightly breathless from his brisk walk into the hospital and the fear that something was horribly wrong.  


“Are you Stiles Stilinksi?” At Stiles' nod, he continued, “That was me you spoke with on the phone. Let me just look up the details on your father now.” He typed something into his computer, and Stiles saw him look at him out of the corner of his eye.  


“You should take a seat, so we can more comfortably discuss this.”  


“I don’t want to take a seat. I want to see my Dad.”  


“Sir, you should really sit.”  


“No, tell me what’s going on. Right now!”  


His face was a mix between slight panic and a touch of sadness. This did not bode well for him. He was beginning to really freak out now.  


“He’s in surgery.”

................

Stiles came out of the memory of this morning as he heard footsteps approaching him. He saw the surgeon making her way down the hall towards him. She looked very calm. It had been hours since the nurse told Stiles his dad was being operated on and filled him in on what had happened to him. His palms started to sweat, and he hastily wiped them on his jeans.  


Once she reached him, Stiles stood up to greet her, but anything he was planning to say died in his throat as he saw a smile start to spread on her face.  


“Your dad is going to be just fine. He will need to stay in the hospital for observation for about a week, and he won’t be walking for quite some time, but he will most likely make a full recovery.” Stiles stopped listening then and sank back into the hard plastic waiting room chair. There were tears of relief running down his cheeks. Then he replayed what she said in his head. Most likely. What did that mean?  


“What do you mean ‘most likely’?”  


“It was touch and go for a little bit there, and I want to keep him under observation for at the very least a week, but I think he will make a slow, but full recovery. There will, of course, be some lasting effects from the injuries to his arm and legs, but nothing that can’t be handled with some physical therapy.”  


“Can I see him?” Stiles thought he was interrupting, but he didn’t care. He only wanted to see his dad. The doctor took Stiles to see him right away, and he almost burst into tears at the sight of his dad. He was covered in bruises and scrapes. The entirety of his left leg was covered in a cast, as well as his left arm. His right leg was only covered in a cast up to his knee, but was apparently mangled pretty badly. From what Stiles had been told, he had been T-boned on the driver’s side by someone going way too fast on a residential street. He was lucky to be alive.  


Stiles rushed into the room and immediately sat by his dad's good side. He gently picked up his hand. It was cool and lifeless, but the steady beeping of the heart monitor reassured him that his father was indeed alive. While Stiles was shifting around to find a comfortable way to sit in the world's most uncomfortable chair his eye caught on his ring. It was his mother’s, his dad had given it to him after she died.

................

The day of Stiles' mom’s funeral was grey, which he thought was fitting. She loved gray days. Dad was holding his hand as they stood in front of the patch of upturned dirt that hid his mom's body. He had her favorite ring in his hand. It wasn’t her wedding ring; he had that one on a chain around his neck. It was a braided silver band, but it was her favorite. She never said why she liked it so much, only that she did.  


“I want you to keep ahold of this for me, Mischief,” he said. His voice was a little bit choked up, and he was sniffling. Stiles looked up at him, and his dad looked down at him with tears in his eyes. He eventually nodded and held out his little hand.  


After he placed it gently in Stiles' hand, he closed his fist around it tightly.  


“I’ll never let it out of my sight.” Noah gave him a little squeeze and the edges of his lips turned up in a tiny smile.

................

His dad was so still, it was unnerving. It was eleven o’clock, now, and the light had faded into darkness. It had been a few hours since Stiles had come into his room, and he had yet to wake. The doctor said it was normal, that the anesthesia would take a little while to wear off, so he didn’t need to worry. He did anyway.  


Stiles was growing tired after so many hours of near silence, but he refused to sleep. He wanted to be awake for his dad when he decided to regain consciousness. Just as he was starting to nod off, he felt fingers twitch in his hand. Stiles jolted upright and stared intently at the slightly more animated face. His eyelids were flickering, and his nose was scrunching up, a usual sign that his dad was waking up.  


Stiles saw his eyes open and watched as he looked around the room until his gaze fell on the figure sitting next to him.  


“Hey, Pops” he said in a tearful voice. He smiled slightly at his son and weakly squeezed Stiles' hand in his. They were going to be okay.


End file.
